All's Fair in Love and War
by asper295
Summary: An elegant twist on the story of Mulan. A tomboyish girl ready to escape, a deadly secret, and a turbulent war. What good can come of it all? Love. story by Evie
1. My Fiancé and Mr War

Disclaimer - We own nothing, yada yada ya....

**Chapter 1: My Fiancé and Mr. War**

War. A continuous, raging war between these United States. We had just come together and defeated the British and now we were destroying each other. I, Bella Swan, am sixteen years old. My parents, Charlie and Renée, believe that I need to be protected from the evils war holds. They think that due to my gender I am condemned to being weak and clueless. I'm not though; despite the fact that I am a petite, pale, clumsy girl, I have a stronger spirit than most men and it shall not and will not be broken by anyone or anything.

However, my parents have already labeled me a pretty face and my mother seeks out a husband for me so she can marry me off and get the protection she thinks I need. My father… I don't even know his opinions. He never speaks his mind and has become my mother's own personal puppet. If she says jump he asks how high. So it was no surprise to myself or any others that when my mother sought after a husband for me my father followed her lead . . . again. Now I have a fiancé, Michael Newton. We are scheduled to be married in three months, four days, seven hours, twenty-two minutes, and thirty-six seconds. Due to this countdown one may think that I cannot wait for this event but the reality is quite the opposite. I am dreading the date and am counting the time that I am still free from that horrid, yet rich man.

You see, I am not like most other girls, I haven't dreamed of my wedding since I was a young child and am not waiting for my own Prince Charming to lift me upon his horse and carry me away into the sunset. No, I know that will never happen and if you want to do something you have to go do it yourself. If you wait for a man to do it the deed shall never be done. I am independent and have learned to trust no one.

With all of this being said it may come to a shock to you but Michael isn't a bad person, in fact I might even feel bad for him having to put up with my mother's constant bickering. The only problem is that along with all of his money Michael also happens to be an overbearing control freak with an arrogant, self-centered personality, which is why I feel no sympathy what so ever.

However, regardless of my feelings I realized that I have to go through with the wedding. Why, might you ask? Because my parents would refuse to take me into their home if I did not marry Michael and I have nowhere else to go. You see, my parents have whipped me into what they portrait as a proper lady. I can play seven different instruments, ride horses, plaster fake smile among fake smile on my face, and have manners my hosts call delightful. In doing all of that there is literally no time to do anything else. Isolation. I have no friends, just snotty, stuck-up rich kids I am forced to interact with. It's either that or stand in a corner of the monstrous mansion while everyone else discusses the latest gossip.

Currently I am lingering in the corner of a great estate, choosing to sulk in private rather than speak with anyone. My mother would be ashamed. It's the least you could do, a voice in my head answered; I smirked to myself.

A voice broke me out of my trance. "Darling come here. There is someone I'd like you to meet." Michael called. _I am not your darling_, I thought. _I'm not your anything you putrid old man. _ Michael is eight years older than me. I sighed, putting on my plastered smile and once again trudged towards him. Once is distance he began to speak in his high-pitched, ignorant tone. "This is Lord Andrew Nelson. A true war hero." He stated like a proud parent would ushering to a balding man even older than him.

_You don't even know the meaning of the world war_, I thought. _While you sat miles away from the battle scene, a cup of warm cider in hand, sending young, innocent men to their death. And you, obnoxiously, aren't even aware of the damage you've caused. But now society has the audacity to call you a hero. What a liberty._

Instead of these frank remarks that would surely knock the hubristic smile lurking on his grotesque face I did the now automatic gesture that I had done so many times that night already. I held my hand out, washed another bright yet overused smile on my so-called glowing face and prompted a "How do you do?"

The excuse for a human being, in-turn, took my hand and kissed it. Replying with a, "Fine now that you're here, and you?"

I had a sudden urge to knee him in the groin and say, "Better now that I got that out of my system." Instead I kept my expression emotionless and stated, "Splendid, this party is just delightful!" Faking enthusiasm yet again. Honestly, I couldn't even remember who was throwing the party. Hell, I couldn't even remember the name of this dubbed "_war hero"_ whose name was said all but two minutes ago.

"Ah, yes, quite." Mr. War replied as Michael also muttered his agreement.

A song I had been taught on the piano as a young girl began to play. I could've brought it up, sparked a conversation but I didn't plan on spending any more time than necessary with this morbid monster.

"If you would excuse me gentlemen." Or lack of, I thought as I scurried away not waiting for a response.

I fled to the balcony. As soon as I opened the grand doors the cool air washed over my face. Ah, that felt good. I was free. "No," I said, "you're not free. You can never be free. Free from this life." This life filled with money, power, greed, hatred, a pushing family, and soon to be demanding husband, I sighed to myself. I don't want any of this. I didn't ask for any of this.

It was at that moment I decided to do it, change my life forever. I had been turning the idea around in my head for a while now. I was going to do it. I was escaping, finally. Leaving for good. I didn't have another home or anyone to help me so I decided to tell no one of my new destination.

I thought about my parents, about how they'd be worried. Not because I was missing but because they would not get any money from Michael. Rich, perfect Michael in their eyes. They would be furious and most likely disown me, which is why this decision is not one to be unsure of. I must be positive because once I go there is no turning back. I already knew how I was gong to escape unnoticed and unseen. I was ready for change, for a new life. This would be the largest hurdle in my life. "Whatever it takes to leave," I whispered as I made my way back to the last ball I would ever have to endure with my family and fiancé.

**Hey everyone, Evie is back from her vacation, and while she was gone, she was able to write quite a bit. Please review and comment on her latest story!**

**- Dal, Evie, and Ava  
**


	2. Freedom

If I were Stephenie Meyer would I really be writing fanfiction?

**Chapter 2: Freedom**

After being dragged around by my fiancé I used the excuse that I was tired at about ten o'clock. He bid me good night with a "good night kiss". If that's not clichéd I don't know what is. The only thing that kept me from not vomiting from his peck on the check was the thought of freedom; it was so close I could almost taste it.

I noticed that I was the first one of my family to leave. My parents and sister, Elizabeth, had not yet left and I knew that both my mother and sister stayed out until the wee hours of the morning and my father, of course, followed suit. Perfect. All Along the carriage ride home I fantasized about what it would be like to be able to make decisions for myself. Once I arrived home I continued dishing out the excuses that I wanted a hot bathe and would then turn in. The servants questioned if they would need my assistance but I refused and gave all of them the rest of the night off. I knew that my family would be mad at that. My mother usually made them tend to her every need especially if she was tired. I didn't regret it though. I was just mad that I wouldn't be able to see her face when she discovered the news.

My idea was simple yet effective. I would join the army. Thousands of men were signing up each day and they needed as many men as they could get until they resorted to drafting. I knew that they would take one look at me and refuse me entrance as I was a woman and women were thought to be weak. I'll show them, I thought. But in order to make the plan work I needed to disguise myself as a man and then sign up. They often turn the other cheek if they see anything suspicious. Like I said they were desperate for able bodies.

First of all I needed to change my appearance. I entered the bathroom and locked the doors cleaned off all of my make-up and smiled brightly at thought of what I was going to do. I grabbed the scissors in one hand and my hair in the other. I brought the scissors up to my hair and began snipping wildly. My hair ended up looking not too bad. The curls from that night were all cut out and my regular straight hair became evident. I ran a finger through my now cropped hair. It was disheveled and in disarray but I actually liked it. After that I had a shower in hope to wash all traces of perfume or other feminine products off of my body. I removed the nail polish from my nails and then went to explore what my father had. I found some aftershave to put on and other scented things.

When I figured that I looked like a boy I needed to do something about my clothes. I owned many elaborate ball gowns and jewelry that accented my features perfectly, but I did not own a single pair of pants to my name. This resorted in me digging through my father's possessions once more. Although I did feel more than slightly guilty, I knew it had to be done in order to join the army. I found pair upon pair of intricately hand made pants with bright colors and buttons found only on China's black market. The problem was I needed plain pants; I needed to blend in with the other men and be accepted by other people. It would only be that much harder if they knew I was rich. They would resent me and isolation was something I was trying to run away from, not look for. At last I found a pair of royal blue cashmere pants. Honestly, they were the worse pants of his I could find. The only problem was that although my father was a slender man I was an even more slender women. So I resorted in cutting the ends of the pants and getting a piece of rope to use as a belt. I thought that would make me look poorer than using one of my father's fine leather belts.

I riffled through his shirts to find that most of them were imprinted with our family crest. I snorted, probably my mother's doing, I thought bitterly. I resorted to going through his pajama drawer to find most of the things he had were better than our butler's, Jacob's, finest shirts. Jake, I thought. I grabbed a large sunhat incase I were to be caught and creaked open the door to my parents bedroom and looked right and left. It was dark and quiet. I tiptoed my way across the estate in search of Jacob's living quarters. Finally I found it; after a few close encounters. I peered through the keyhole and it looked as if no one were in the room. I opened the door to find Jake reading quietly in the corner of the room. He was my age yet already working.

"Bella." He greeted me with a slightly surprised tone. Oh my god, I thought.

"Jake." I greeted him back. Stay cool Bella, I said to myself. Thank god I wore that hat.

As if he had read my mind he replied. "Nice hat."

"Thanks." I said but it sounded more like a question.

"What can I do for you Madame?" He asked with a slight twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face. Jacob knew I hated when people would refer to me as better then themselves.

I scoffed and said, "Ms. Swan (I still refuse to call her mom) needs your assistance in the East Wing." Wow, that was lame.

He raised his eyebrows. "Whatever for?"

"No clue." Honestly.

"If you would excuse me." He bowed before he left; laughing when he saw me roll my eyes.

Sorry Jake, I thought to myself when I grabbed one of his old shirts. I knew it would fit because Jacob had always been a rather lanky boy. Although I had cheated, lied, and stolen so many times that night that I lost count I still felt shame when taking Jake's shirt. I always liked Jacob; he was a nice fellow and would treat me as an equal. He was the closest thing to a friend I had. Still, I took the shirt because a) I needed to in order to get into the army b) Jacob would not mind because c) I left some gold coins in place of the shirt.

Although the shirt hung rather baggy on me it was as good as it was going to get. I took all of the money I had and some of my parents along with the only possession I held dear to me, my grandmother's cross. I had never been one for religion. If God was real why would I be condemned to this fate? What did I do wrong? More importantly why is there poverty, crime, and hate? I didn't understand why someone so powerful, kind, and giving would inflict so much pain and suffering on the world. Although I was labeled a Christian by birth at heart other emotions flickered like a burning candle. No matter how many times my family and the church had try to put out the small yet blazing fire it refused to be snuffed.

Although my thoughts on religion were weaker than my grandmother's, to say the least, it was the last thing she gave me before she died. I loved her so much; she was the only person in my entire family who I could relate to. She was against marrying for money and was twenty-seven when she finally met the man of her dreams and was married. To her parent's relief the man happened to be a duke but nevertheless she loved him and their marriage was a strong one. I admire my grandmother's courage for standing up for what she thought right even though she was standing alone. I often wished I possessed that courage. After all, twenty-seven today is an outrageous age to be married. "So old," the people would whisper as she passed. It's not as if she couldn't hear them it's the fact that she didn't give a damn what they thought.

I grabbed the gold cross and tucked it under my shirt. I then grabbed the money I had from my allowance and I had stolen from my parent's room and placed that into my father's small leather bag I had slung across my torso. This one's for you grandma, I thought.

I tied all of my bedding and clothes together with double knots so it made a sort of rope. I then tied one end of the _rope _to a leg of my iron bed. That should hold I thought. I threw the other end of the chain of clothing out of the window and proceeded to climb out. It had worked in many books I had read but I'm not stupid I knew that if this didn't work I would either break something or have to climb back in and resort to sneaking out the front door. Just as I was about to climb out of the window I heard a noise.

It seemed to happen in slow motion; the doorknob slowly turned open and I heard a voice.

"Bella?"

Oh crap.

**Okay so please review! **

**always, dal, evie, and ava  
**


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